


Let's cause a little trouble

by isacabral



Series: after all that we've been through, still believe in magic? [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bechloe Week 2017, F/F, Hogwarts AU, i know this goes against fandom headcanon, ravenclaw!beca, sorry not sorry tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isacabral/pseuds/isacabral
Summary: Written for Bechloe Week 2017 - Day 5: Harry Potter





	Let's cause a little trouble

**Author's Note:**

> a few things before you start reading this: thank you SO MUCH to andy and haley and all the other people i've bothered about this that made me not give up on this story. i love you awesome nerds.
> 
> also -- this was heavily inspired by the lastpoisonapple's harry potter fic. i'd like to also thank her.
> 
> lastly, the title comes from halsey's song 'trouble'.

Beca had gotten in trouble for a lot of stuff in her life and, admittedly, most of those were her own fault.

 

Like the time when her older cousin wouldn't stop poking her under the table at her grandmother’s 90th birthday and she ended up blowing up the cake in his face.

 

Which — was totally an accident! She was seven! It wasn't like she had any control over her magic.

 

But her father had been pissed. Her mother had smothered her laughter behind a napkin. Her grandmother had grumbled something about being thankful she wasn't a squib and ordered the house elves to make another cake.

 

Then there was that time when she was nine, during tutoring class, and her friend Amy challenged her to a broom race. So that clearly also wasn't _entirely_ her fault; Amy wasn’t mounting her broom properly, Beca was just trying to show her the right way to do it. Promise!

 

But then she got caught up in the amazing feeling of flying and ran into a tree just behind a muggle high school.

 

Her dad called her irresponsible. Her mom called her rambunctious. Amy laughed and teased her saying she was going to Azkaban before they even went to school.

 

Which… whatever. At least now she knew the proper way to mount a broom.

 

When her dad walked out on them, she got so angry she blew up the chandelier.

 

She didn't got in trouble for that one.

 

But her first detention at Hogwarts was _so_ not her fault —

 

It was _her_ fault. That weird girl with no sense of personal space.

 

//

 

Beca didn’t expected magic to be so hard, especially since it always came easily to her. Subconsciously, unintentionally easy.

 

But dude, Transfiguration was _hard_. And they were only on the theory part of it.

 

Crap.

 

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

 

Crap, crap, _crap_.

 

She was so nervous she didn’t even noticed when Professor McGonagall told them to pair up and start working on turning their matches into needles.

 

She also barely registered being approached by a smiling redhead saying, “We should work together!” and grumbling out an answer, but she  _did_ register the soft smell of pomegranates that lingered in the air around her.

 

Beca gripped her hornbeam wand maybe harder than was necessary and felt it vibrate. She could do it, and she couldn’t care less about the redhead girl next to her… even when she was clearly eyeing her movements instead of working on her own.

 

“You’re doing it wrong!” she whispered next to her after a couple of flicks that did absolutely nothing.

 

“What? No, I’m not!” she scowled in both denial and embarrassment at being told off by a complete stranger.

 

“Yes, you are! Let me show you!”

 

And then the girl was _there_ , in her _personal space_ and  _what the actual fuck_.

 

The next thing she knew, she was lighting all the matches at the same time, causing a not-so-tiny explosion and making everyone turn to look at them.

 

“ _Dude!_ ”

 

“I’m so sorry!” the girl’s blue eyes were wide and genuine and Beca glared at her.

 

“Miss Beale! Miss Mitchell!” Professor McGonagall looked sternly at them, not amused. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Beca stuttered, glaring at the girl next to her that was trying to clean their hazard. “It— just— she was—”

 

“I was trying to help!” the girl yelped, looking slightly offended.

 

“Since you seem to be in a such a cooperative mood Miss Beale, perhaps detention tonight would be appropriate." McGonagall fixed miss Beale with a hard, stern look.

 

Beca smirks when a frown adorns the redhead’s face because _finally_ the right people were taking the blame, not her. Her smirk fell, however, as soon as that stern look was directed at her.

 

"You too, Miss Mitchell. We might be able to work on your interpersonal skills."

 

 _Crap_.

 

//

 

Word got to her father in what must've been record time. It was naive of her to expect otherwise and of course she ended up having to endure a long winded sermon about whatever psycho babble he was trying on at the time.

 

Her mom sent her a box of Fizzing Whizzbees with a note saying " _I knew you had it in you, sweetie_ ”. Amy started calling her Shawshank.

 

Whatever. It was so not her fault!

 

//

 

“Since you seem so fond of _exploding_ things,” Professor McGonagall said with a hard lingering look on Beca, making the young girl flush scarlet. “You will not be working with your wands today.”

 

She handed them a smelly bottle and a frayed rag.

 

“You’ll be polishing off all the candelabras from the third floor. Mr. Filch will show you the way.”

 

Beca barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, silently fuming about how much she really hated her life right now.

 

//

 

Except it was hard to keep the act up when she was around the literal definition of human sunshine.

 

A very _chatty_ , blue-eyed, red-haired human sunshine.

 

So far Beca had already absorbed a plethora of useless information about the girl (Hufflepuff, half blood, her favorite sweets were all flavored beans) and even her clipped responses weren't enough to deter her.

 

“What's your wand core?”

 

The question came out of left field and gave Beca pause, momentarily trying to decipher where Chloe was going with this new conversation path.

 

Casting a look of barely concealed suspicion at the hufflepuff out of the corner of her eye she finally relented and answered, "Dragon heartstring," in the most detached tone she could muster.

 

She hoped Chloe would attribute her lengthy pause as disinterest, when in reality, it was anything but.

 

To be honest, she was expecting the girl to ignore her reply and continue to babble on about whatever was on her mind, giving her a whiplash. Surprisingly enough, though, Chloe fell silent and didn’t said anything, except for, “Wow”.

 

“What?” she asked, growing weary of the awed look on the other girl's eyes.

 

“You must be really powerful.”

 

Beca shrugs, mildly embarrassed, thinking back to when the creepy dude from the wand shop said the same thing, albeit less reverently.

 

“What's yours?” she asked against her better instincts, just to get the spotlight off of herself.

 

That brought the blinding smile back to Chloe's face. “Guess.”

 

Beca looked up with a scowl but all she could see was that blinding smile paired with piercing bright blue eyes and fiery red hair that only made her think of one thing.

 

“Phoenix feather.”

 

If possible, Chloe's smile seemed to shine brighter after her answer. “Yes! How did you know?”

 

Beca looked down at the trophies they had to clean trying to suppress a smile, mumbling. “Wild guess.”

 

//

 

 _To be perfectly clear_ Beca didn't want to be at Hogwarts. She didn't want to be in the same school as her stupid father and his even more stupid new wife. The one he had left them for.

 

She didn't need a stupid wand to make magic!

 

She wanted to go to Ilvermorny like her mom had and prove to the magical community — _and her father_ — that the most powerful magic in the world was music.

 

But _no_.

 

“Mitchell's go to Hogwarts, Rebecca. It's tradition.”

 

So she had made a deal with her mom. She'd do three years at her father's stupid school with his stupid wife and a stupid wand.

 

And then, if she still didn't like it, they'd apply for transfer to Ilvermorny.

 

Her dad was upset and protested — citing the difficulties of switching schools, talking about how she wouldn’t even know if she would like Hogwarts if she wasn’t going to go with the right attitude — but the deal was good enough for Beca.

 

She had a solid plan that entailed not getting involved with anything school related so she could flee when the time came.

 

No friends, no club, not _anything_ to attach her to Hogwarts.

 

Nothing could deter her plan.

 

Well, except for, maybe, this one chatty, blue-eyed, red-haired thing.

 

//

 

“What do you mean you're not applying for any clubs?” Chloe looked appalled. “It's our second year! We're finally allowed!”

 

“Uh…” Beca didn’t really know what to say.

 

It was rude to tell your kind-of-friend you weren’t planning on sticking around, right? Or, was it ruder not to tell her? And why did Beca care about being rude all of the sudden?

 

At least Amy knew about her plan and wasn’t sad about it or anything. She’d known Beca for so long; she got it.

 

But Beca had a feeling Chloe wouldn’t _be as understanding,_ so she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t think she wanted to deal with the way she instinctively knew those big blue eyes would get sad or mad — or both — and the many, many words she knew that would follow.

 

“Everything is just so lame,” she shrugged, trying to look unaffected, but as usual that didn’t seem to deter Chloe.

 

“Even quidditch?”

 

 _Crap_. Of course she’d have picked up on that.

 

“What club are you getting into?” the brunette asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

 

“Frog Choir.”

 

Beca snorted. “Why?”

 

There was no way she could remain being friends with Chloe if she joined something as lame as the Frog Choir. Honestly.

 

She had a reputation to uphold here. It wasn’t much and maybe it was all about keeping a profile low enough that she could disapparate and not be missed.

 

Whatever. It was still something she wanted to hold on to, as a resemble of self-control.

 

“I like singing,” Chloe wrinkled her nose, looping her arm through Beca’s and dragging the girl along. “It reminds me of my dad.”

 

Beca gulped. She should maybe work on not being such an asshole.

 

“Okay,” she relented to get out of an uncomfortable conversation.

 

“Will you come see me audition?” Chloe requested earnestly, in such a soft way that made Beca’s heart — the one she liked to pretend it was dark and cold — tug painfully in her chest as if some wandless magic was  being performed on it.

 

Beca thinks she’ll do anything Chloe asks of her as long as she keeps using that soft tone.

 

//

 

Going to the Frog Choir audition had been _such_ a mistake.

 

Why did Beca think listening to Chloe sing was a good idea? She was already hopeless against those blue eyes,  _soft, perfect_ hair and sweet smile.

 

And Beca knew herself, she knew how much music meant to her and she probably should have known that associating Chloe to that would be a Bad Idea. And now that she had listened to that voice she knew.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

“Did you know Ravenclaw has an open spot for Seeker?”

 

Beca got asked later, at dinner, but she was still a bit dazed after hearing Chloe sing and she didn’t even notice the redhead had joined her at the Ravenclaw table.

 

“What?” she asked, surprised, around a mouthful of chips.

 

“The quidditch team,” Chloe told her, smiling brightly, and rolling her eyes in an affectionate way that made Beca blush. “The open spots are for Seeker and Beaters. You should try out,” she said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice and fixing her with those unnerving bright blue eyes.

 

“Uh, dude, no.”

 

“Who’s trying out for the team?” Stacie Conrad, a third year who happened to be taller than anyone Beca has ever met, asked.

 

“No one,” she told her, quickly and firmly, shooting Chloe a look.

 

“Beca!” Chloe completely ignored her look, her tone chipper and excited.

 

Beca glared at Chloe, who smiled sweetly after swallowing a spoonful of pudding.

 

“Oooh, you, little one?” Stacie looked excitedly at her, looking her up and down. Her face shifted into a smirk, “You're small; squirrely. You’d make a good Seeker.”

 

It made Beca flush and then glare.

 

“That's what I told her!” Chloe beamed.

 

 _Traitor_.

 

“I am  _not_ trying out for Seeker!”

 

//

 

She ended up trying out for Seeker.

 

She also ended up as Ravenclaw’s newest seeker.

 

//

 

“I'm leaving by the end of third year,” Beca admitted quietly, but trying for nonchalance after tryouts were over and Chloe took her to a celebratory picnic by the lake.

 

They weren't looking at each other, but facing the lake and occasionally throwing the giant squid some muffins. It was something they’d started doing last year; well, something Chloe had wanted to do, for them to have picnics. It'd ended up being a frequent occurrence.

 

The redhead didn't seemed bothered by this confession though, much to her surprise.

 

“So what? That doesn't mean you can't have a little fun until then? We aren’t supposed to be friends?” she asked, a cross between teasing and confused.

 

Beca thought… maybe she was really glad she had Chloe as her _sort of_ friend. Not that she'd ever admit it out loud.

 

//

 

After finding out she had gotten a spot on the team, Beca's dad seemed a bit more comfortable with the deal between his ex wife and daughter and ended up getting her the owl she had requested once she started school. Her mom got her a Nimbus 2000. Amy bought them all a few rounds of butterbeer.

 

But nothing made Beca feel better about the whole ordeal than watching Chloe cheer for her even though she was playing against Hufflepuff.

 

Whatever. That didn't mean anything.

 

//

 

Third year was a _nightmare_.

 

Why did she had to choose _more_ subjects to take? Weren't the ones she was taking good enough already?

 

She wasn't even going to be here after the end of this stupid year!

 

Beca had sent Owlford — thanks Amy — home with a long, angry letter to her mom, complaining about this nonsense.

 

Twelve inches of parchment and a box of Fizzing Whizzbees later, her mom’s response ended with:

 

 _Don't you wanna learn more about music? Try taking Muggle Studies as an elective! Maybe they'll have something new to teach you and you won't have to wait until you come to Ilvermorny_.

 

Maybe it was because she trusted her mom’s judgement or maybe it was because of the fuzzy feeling the candy gave her.

 

Or even — a smirk graced the brunette’s features once this thought crossed her mind — because it'd make her pureblood, elitist father squirm in his seat. Beca decided to take the lame elective, along with Care of Magical Creatures.

 

She could blame Chloe for talking her into that one — apparently, Beca really _was_ a sucker for stupidly bright wide eyes and a pretty smiles.

 

She'd just blame Stacie for her Ancient Runes class. She'd been spending too much time with those nerds.

  


//

 

Beca never wanted to blend into a wall more than the first day of Muggle Studies class.

 

Oh Merlin, this looked like first year all over again.

 

She just wanted to expand her musical knowledge, damn it! And piss off her dad in the process.

 

Just when she was thinking about ditching and then cancelling this nonsense, her body was engulfed by warmth and the smell of pomegranate.

 

Three years and Chloe still couldn't care less about her personal space.

 

“Becs!” the Hufflepuff exclaimed, her usual bright smile in place after hugging the brunette. "You didn't tell me you were taking Muggle Studies!"

 

 _Crap_.

 

Nobody was supposed to know she was taking this class. She would never hear the end of it from Amy. Or Stacie. Not that Beca was any bit the sort of elitist her dad was, but — she had a reputation to maintain!

 

But of course _Chloe_ would be there and spot her and ruin her plans.

 

“What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were half blood,” as usual, she tried to worm her way out of the spotlight.

 

Besides, her point was valid. There was no reason for Chloe to be in this class, when she knew about muggles already.

 

“I am,” the redhead shrugged. “My mom's a witch and went to Beauxbatons. My dad's a muggle and a musician.”

 

“Still doesn't explain what you're doing here,” she pressed on.

 

“I've always wanted to learn more about my dad's world and all the amazing stories he tells me,” Chloe said easily, not caring at all about Beca’s discomfort or, maybe, choosing to ignore it. You know, the usual. “What about you?”

 

Beca was saved from having to answer by the professor’s arrival.

 

//

 

Of course Chloe, after a couple of classes, would pick up on the fact Beca wasn't actually interested in any aspect of muggle life, rather than a single one.

 

Beca really couldn't care less about how electric plugs worked… Although, once she learned about the electric violin, she itched to try it on and spent weeks looking for one.

 

That's when she found the Room of Requirement.

 

//

 

“Wow.”

 

Beca was squirming excitedly next to a baffled and bewildered Chloe.

 

“Isn't it amazing?” she asked, looking over the music room filled with every single instrument she could think of.

 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt herself smile so naturally.

 

“Becs, this is…”

 

Beca panics when she sees those expressive baby blues filled with tears. She dared anyone, no matter how cool they thought they were, manage _not_ to panic when faced with Chloe Beale about to cry.

 

“Look!” she started going about the room, showing off, nervously, to avoid those tears. “They have _plugs_ here. We can use the electric stuff!” she pointed to the guitar and violin propped against the wall.

 

“You can use electricity here?” Beca was relieved to noticed Chloe's voice didn't sound so close to tears anymore. “I didn't think that was possible.”

 

“Just this room, I think,” the Ravenclaw shrugged. “They also have all these books about music _theory_ and —” Wow, that was lame even of herself, maybe she should slow down. “Look! All this stuff I don't know,” she finished lamely because she really had no idea what half of that muggle stuff did.

 

“That's really amazing, Becs,” Chloe smiled fondly at her, making the brunette blush for some reason and her stomach do that fluttery thing it did like that one time she stole a sip of one of her older cousin’s firewhiskey. “If this really works, I can charge my phone here and Skype back home!”

 

“Your _what_?”

 

“My phone, silly,” the Hufflepuff giggled and they spent the whole Saturday afternoon there, the redhead talking about home and muggle things her father taught her about while Beca absentmindedly strummed an acoustic guitar.

 

This… was probably the best place Hogwarts had to offer.

 

//

 

Most of the trouble Chloe got Beca into _that_ year consisted of being caught after curfew sneaking around the castle because they lost track of time in the Room of Requirement.

 

Her dad always found out about those times — he had even caught them once — and gave one of the responsibility speeches he was so fond of. Beca's mom wrote her back saying she really wanted to meet Chloe. Amy just kept saying they were a really bad version of Bonnie and Clyde, whatever that meant.

 

But, surprisingly enough, it was okay to Beca  because as long as she had Chloe by her side, giggling, singing and bringing food she snuck out of the kitchen for them, she couldn't care less about the troubles.

 

//

 

The real surprise came when, the summer after their third year, she rejected her mom’s offer to apply for transfer to Ilvermorny. She’d even surprised herself with how easy it was to turn it down.

 

Her mom just smiled knowingly at her and popped a couple of Fizzing Whizzbees.

 

“That's okay, sweetheart. We can always go there to visit sometime anyway. Maybe bring a couple of your friends along.”

 

She knew her mom probably meant Amy or Stacie but Beca couldn’t help but think about Chloe and how she’d probably be really excited about this.

 

Beca smiled gratefully to her mom and popped the last candy in her mouth.

 

That same night she sent Owlford to Chloe asking if she wanted to come over during the summer. Honestly, life wasn’t that fun without Chloe around to convince her to do things she normally wouldn’t.

 

Besides, she might as well let her mom meet the troublemaker that made her have a change of heart so drastic.

 

//

 

Beca could tell that her father was surprised when she burst into his office the first day of the term in her fourth year.

 

“I’m not back for you,” she informed him, first thing, before he could look too excited.

 

His open mouth closed quickly and he nodded, looking resigned. She totally _didn’t_ feel any sort of guilt at that. Even if what she’d said was just the truth.

 

That day, she went up to the Room of Requirement after dinner and recorded the beat stuck in her mind all summer, the way Chloe taught her over the summer on all of those electrical machine things.

 

She felt a little better after that.

 

//

 

“Wh—” Beca fumbled as she stumbled through the entrance of the Great Hall, barely awake, only to find it tableless and all fourth year students propped against a wall. “What the hell is happening?”

 

“Dance lessons,” Chloe whispered next to her, handing a coffee and a blueberry muffin. “For the Yule Ball.”

 

“Fuck me,” she muttered under her breath, taking a sip of her drink.

 

 _Exactly_ the way she liked it. Apparently something Chloe had picked up on during her stay over the summer.

 

“You wish, tiny human,” Stacie piped in, joining the duo. “Why do we have to do this? We’re not the champions.”

 

“Everyone is expected to dance at the ball, Stacie,” Aubrey Posen, a Slytherin and Chloe’s best friend since they met the first day of Frog Choir, replied. “It’s tradition.”

 

Beca rolled her eyes and scarfed down her muffin; Aubrey and her dad would work together so well with all their talk about _tradition_ and _responsibilities_.

 

Why Chloe was friends with someone like Aubrey her was beyond her. Although, people must think that about _her_ friendship with the redhead as well, so.

 

Whatever.

 

She also thought dance lessons were stupid and she _definitely_ wouldn’t dance at the ball if she had the chance, but, well… Chloe liked to dance.

 

And after four years it was pretty clear to everyone, Beca included, she'd do just about anything for Chloe.

 

It’s not something she’s proud of, okay?

 

So of course, when the lesson started, Beca and Chloe paired up like every other dance lesson they had before.

 

Chloe claimed it was because Beca knew how to ball dance and she needed a good partner. Beca, on the other hand, believed it was because no one wanted to dance with someone so short. Amy and Stacie argued about who wore the pants in their relationship.

 

 _Assholes_.

 

And just like every other lesson they had, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick moved around the room making them change partners every few turns.

 

Beca was dancing with a Hufflepuff boy named Jesse when she spotted Chloe being twirled around by Tom Montgomery, Gryffindor Seeker.

 

And it would have been fine, really. Everything would have been _fucking awesome_ if he wasn't making Chloe laugh that loud, carefree laughter she had come to associate with sunny afternoons by the lake.

 

 _Their_ sunny afternoons.

 

“Hey, are you okay?”

 

Beca was fine, couldn't this boy see she was nothing but perfectly okay? Just because her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous it didn't mean she was _anything_ but fine.

 

Instead of waiting for Chloe so they could do whatever the redhead had planned for them, Beca made a beeline for the practice pitch, stopping just to grab her broom and taking off.

 

Would she get in trouble for it?

 

Maybe.

 

 _Whatever_. It's not like she cared.

 

//

 

She must have been flying for over thirty minutes when she heard Chloe calling for her.

 

She was still a bit confused about the amount of feelings rushing through her but flying had calmed her enough to have a talk with her best friend.

 

“Hey,” Chloe smiled cautiously at her. “You okay? Jesse said you rushed off after the lesson ended.”

 

“I’m fine,” the Ravenclaw shrugged. “Just got a bit much in there.”

 

Of course Chloe nodded and agreed with her answer without needing further explanation.

 

“Wanna go sit by the lake? I have some beans to share.”

 

Beca's smile was small, but it was there, so she nodded and agreed too.

 

//

 

“Tom asked me if I wanted to go to the ball with him.”

 

They had been sitting in comfortable silence for a while and the random bit of information made Beca choke on her marshmallow flavored bean.

 

“What?” she coughed, eyes watering.

 

She had heard it the first time, of course she had. She was just desperately trying to buy some time to think because Beca  didn't know what to say here.

 

Everything her stupid brain came up with sounded angry and bitter and she didn’t want to drag Chloe down with her quidditch fueled hate.

 

“Yeah,” she bit her lower lip in which Beca knew was a nervous habit.

 

 _What the hell_ was happening to her and _why_ was she so angry over this? Chloe wasn’t hers for safekeeping; she was allowed to live her life the way she wanted.

 

Just because stupid Tom had used a Transylvanian Tackle on her the last game of the match last year and caught the Snitch didn't mean he wasn't good enough to date her best friend.

 

It also didn’t mean that she _cared_ or whatever the Stacie-like voice in her head was trying to say.

 

“I told him no.”

 

Well, _that_ was surprising.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because we're going together, aren't we?” Chloe retorted nervously. “We've been practicing together. And — we're good together! I just want a fun night, not a — well, not a night of pretending to please someone.”

 

Beca's smile during her friend's nervous ramble threatened to split her face in two.

 

“Chlo,” she pressed her hand over the other girl's in an attempt to grab her attention. “Of course we're going together.”

 

As per usual, her senses were assaulted by the smell of pomegranate when the redhead launched herself in a hug.

 

And if the smell permeated in the air because Chloe simply cuddled by her side and didn't went back to her previous position, well, Beca was not complaining.

 

 _Suck that, Montgomery_.

 

//

 

Her dad seemed pleased when he learned she wasn’t ditching the ball, so much so, Beca had a sneaking suspicion it was the reason he didn’t give her class, or any other, any homework for the winter break.

 

Her mom sent over her dress robes — shiny charcoal gray since she refused anything else — alongside with a silver necklace that had a bass clef as a pendant.

 

Reluctantly, she asked Stacie for help with her hair and makeup. She ignored Amy’s cough that sounded suspiciously like “whipped” when she placed the request.

 

Fuck ‘em. Chloe deserved the effort.

 

//

 

Just as Stacie, Beca and Amy were making their way down to the Great Hall, Beca stopped dead in her tracks, making the girls bump into her back.

 

“Yo Shawshank, a little warning woulda been nice!” Amy complained, rubbing her arm. “What happened?”

 

“Beca’s got that dazed look she gets when she sees those Veela girls. Is Luisa around?” Stacie assessed, looking down at her friend.

 

Which, _fuck you, Stacie_ , everyone got dazed around Veelas!

 

Amy looked around and once she spotted the source of Beca's freezing astonishment, she smirked.

 

“No,” she nudged Stacie so she could see it too. “But Chloe is.”

 

To be fair, Chloe was already very distracting to Beca, all blue-eyed, red-haired graciousness, paired with a sickenly sweet, bright smile and the best smell in the whole world.

 

And all of that wrapped up in a midnight blue dress that made Chloe look like the brightest star in the night sky?

 

She was honestly trying to kill Beca here.

 

“Breath, shortstack,” Amy nudged her. “We don't want you dead before you get to sweep Red off her feet.”

 

Before she could come up with a witty response, Chloe spotted them and smiled her bright smile and waved them over.

 

She was next to Aubrey, who was wearing a bright emerald dress and was, surprisingly enough — well, surprising to Beca, at least — Stacie’s date.

 

“You guys ready?” Chloe asked once they got close enough.

 

She was talking to all of them but her eyes were clearly fixed on Beca, making the brunette blush under her intense gaze.

 

“Hell yeah,” Amy answered for them since, apparently, Beca had been reduced to a mute, useless mess. “Let’s do this!”

 

//

 

The area of lawn right in front of the castle that had been transformed into a sort of small cave full of fairy lights — with, you know, _actual fairies_ there or whatever — fluttering over the statues that were supposed to represent the spirits of Christmas was very nice and all, but Beca couldn’t help but think the most beautiful sight of the night was Chloe.

 

Chloe dancing. Chloe drinking punch. Chloe laughing freely and dragging her along the room to ball dance like they had been forced to practice all semester.

 

Just watching Chloe in general was making Beca feel very full of something she couldn’t quite decipher and maybe she didn’t want to delve into that tonight.

 

Maybe she just wanted to enjoy it.

 

“Are you having fun?”

 

Beca turned to look into those sparkling blue eyes and she could feel her face muscles starting to mirror the smile directed at her, “Yeah. It’s nice.”

 

“I knew you’d like it.” Chloe winked at her, stealing her punch and downing the rest, making the other girl glare at her.

 

“The music sucks, though,” Beca complained.

 

“Yeah,” the redhead agreed. “They could really use with some David Guetta now.”

 

“Who?”

 

The look on Chloe’s face was comical. “You don’t know who David Guetta is?”

 

//

 

They spent the entirety of winter break inside the Room of Requirement where Chloe proceeded to educate Beca on all the _must-know_ artists from the muggle world.

 

Amy called her whipped. Stacie thought it was cute. Aubrey just frowned when she found out about it.

 

Whatever. Chloe just happened to have really good musical taste.

 

//

 

It took Beca most of the summer after their fourth year to realize what Amy and Stacie have been trying to tell her for the last couple of years.

 

To make matters worst, she realized only by the time she was spending the last couple of weeks of the break with Chloe.

 

They were laying down at an open field behind the Beale’s two story home, stargazing as Beca explained to Chloe how she could see music in the stars and why that was one of reasons she loved Astronomy so much.

 

Chloe was holding her hand — something she started doing way more often after the Yule Ball — and she’d squeeze it softly whenever she wanted to interrupt Beca's animated talk to ask a question.

 

It was only when she turned to look at the redhead and thought those blue eyes were brighter than any star she had ever seen and they made her feel greater than any song she had ever listened to, that Beca realized she was fucking in love with her best friend.

 

And also _so_ screwed.

 

//

 

On the grand scheme of things, being screwed was starting to look like Beca's theme for her fifth year.

 

Or at least that's what it felt like when they got their letters the next day.

 

“Prefect? Congratulations, dear,” Chloe's mom smiled warmly at her daughter once they opened their letters after breakfast.

 

Of course Chloe would be chosen as prefect. That was a given.

 

The surprising part came with Beca's letter.

 

“Quidditch captain?” Chloe's dad whistled once he saw Beca's shiny new badge. “Way to go, kid.”

 

Chloe smiled brightly at her. Her mom started making a new batch of eggs and bacon to celebrate. Beca felt like she couldn't breath properly.

 

This was _so_ fucked up.

 

//

 

When her mom met up with them later that day in Diagon Alley, she gave her the biggest box of Fizzing Whizzbees Beca had ever seen.

 

Amy and Stacie bought a box of Exploding Whizzpoppers and kept lightening them at the most inopportune times throughout the whole day.

 

Her dad sent her an oddly sweet letter and added a hefty amount of gold to her Gringotts account.

 

Beca still felt sick to her stomach about the whole thing.

 

//

 

“You’re gonna be a great captain.”

 

They were lying in the dark in Chloe’s room, the last day of summer break, the smell of pomegranate surrounding them stronger than in any place in the house.

 

“Uh, dude, no,” Beca stuttered, feeling herself blush. “That’s a lot of responsibility. I can’t do this.”

 

She felt more than saw her best friend turn to look at her, the intensity of her gaze not diminished.

 

“You _can_ do this, Becs. I believe in you,” Chloe intertwined their fingers and they went back to sharing a comfortable silence, eventually falling asleep.

 

And maybe this was the best Beca felt about the whole thing.

 

//

 

Before her first practice of the season, Beca could hear three distinct voices in her head.

 

First there was Amy with “You're Beca Effin' Mitchell! You're the big B.M! You're the most talented person I know. And I've met three members from the Chudley Cannons... intimately”. Which — was oddly helpful and wasn’t even one of the worst things she had heard her friend say.

 

Then there was her mom. Like Beca, she didn’t use much words to communicate how she was feeling but the memory of her crooked smile and “You can do whatever you set your stubborn mind into it, honey,” said with nothing but fondness _did_ made Beca feel a little more confident.

 

And then there was Chloe and her unwavering belief in Beca; every time she thought about that moment back in the summer when the redhead told her she believed in her, her whole body relaxed and Beca felt like she could conquer the world.

 

So, she started making plans.

 

//

 

She trained her team hard because no team led by Beca Mitchell would be a sloppy loser.

 

Amy called her crazy. Stacie claimed she was drunk on power. Chloe just giggled — she fucking giggled — and said she thought Beca was doing a great job.

 

Whatever. She was in it to win it now, damn it!

 

Her confidence grew as she watched her wobbly team slowly become something to be proud of, beating up the Slytherin team easily by using the Sloth Grip Roll; winning dramatically against Hufflepuff after Jessica and Ashley nailed the Doppelbeater Defense.

 

And now they stood a real chance of winning the cup. They only had one less enemy to defeat.

 

//

 

“Alright nerds, listen up,” Beca called after a particularly grueling practice in the middle of April.

 

They were all drenched from head to toes due to the heavy rainfall that had been going on for the last several days but they all looked very pleased with themselves.

 

Which they should. Because they were amazing. But whatever. She was trying to play it cool here.

 

“You've been great all season and I'm proud of you for that,” Stacie whistled, making her glare. “But this isn't over! We need to be at the top of our game to crush the Gryffindor team.”

 

And if Beca was extra motivated for that because Tom hadn't gotten the hint last year and kept asking Chloe out, well.

 

Nobody needed to know that.

 

But from the knowing smirk Stacie kept giving her and the sympathetic looks from Ashley — or was that Jessica? — Beca had a feeling her teammates weren't _that_ oblivious about her motivation.

 

Whatever. She didn't care about that as long as they won.

 

//

 

This was it. The last week of May had arrived, bringing with it the last match of the championship.

 

Slytherin had won over Hufflepuff but not with enough points to concern Beca so it all came down to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

 

Beca against Tom.

 

 _Fuck_ , she was going to be sick.

 

“Hey Cap,” Stacie called from the entrance of the Ravenclaw locker room. “You've got a visit.”

 

Beca looked up just in time to see Chloe entering and Stacie leaving, not before winking mischievously at her.

 

 _Asshole_.

 

“Hey,” Chloe greeted her softly, uncharacteristically shy. “Are you nervous?”

 

“Nah,” Beca shrugged. _Terrified_. “It's all good.”

 

She knew her avoidance techniques wouldn't work on Chloe but that didn't mean she wanted to have a meltdown with her best friend — with whom she'd been in love for the better part of the year — about how badly she wanted to win over said best friend's suitor.

 

Chloe just smiled softly at her, like she usually did when she knew Beca was dismissing a potential emotionally vulnerable situation.

 

Instead of prodding, though, she just invaded the brunette’s personal space, the smell of pomegranates hitting her hard.

 

“What are you doing down here, Chlo?” Beca asked when the intensity of those blue eyes became too much. “The game’s about to start.”

 

“I know,” the redhead bit her bottom lip in a telltale sign of nervousness. “I just wanted to tell you something first.”

 

Beca's heart started beating wildly in her chest. What did Chloe had to say that couldn't wait until after the game?

 

“Shoot,” she said stupidly.

 

Having Chloe so up and close in her personal space always threw her off her game.

 

Chloe took a deep breath in another clear sign of being nervous, making Beca worry even more.

 

“I just wanted to say that, whatever the outcome, it's not a competition, okay?”

 

That just made Beca frown because it wasn't anywhere near close anything she was expecting. “What?”

 

“It's not a competition, Beca!” Chloe grabbed her shoulders forcefully as if that'd make her understand what she was trying to say. “You and Tom. You're my best friend, I'll always choose you, okay?”

 

Those blue eyes were so close that Chloe's scent outweighed the stinky smell of the locker.

 

For a crazy, wonderful moment, Beca honestly thought they were going to kiss right there and then.

 

But instead she just gulped and exhaled a weak, “Okay.”

 

“Okay,” Chloe repeated, seeming to relax after Beca’s response.

 

The noise outside grew louder, meaning the game was about to start _really_ soon.

 

“I need to get going,” Beca said, taking a deep breath. Chloe simply nodded. “Whatever the outcome, right?” she asked, with a lopsided smile, maybe because she needed the reassurance one last time.

 

“Yes,” Chloe agreed, more so back to her usual bright self. “Good luck, Becs,” she pecked the brunette’s cheek and fled the room, leaving behind a stunned and flushed Beca.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

//

 

Beca went into the game thinking about “I believe in you” and “Whatever the outcome” and “It’s not a competition”.

 

It didn’t mattered if it was though. Because they won.

 

They freaking won the championship.

 

//

 

Beca could still feel the snitch struggling in her hold and hear the deafening roar of the stadium celebrating their win.

 

She could still feel the adrenaline rush of spotting the snitch and flying like mad to get to it first.

 

She could still feel Chloe’s lips on her cheek, her smell surrounding her and she _really_ needed to see her best friend now.

 

That’s why, even before she landed, she was already looking for the redhead and when she spotted her, she ran towards her as fast as she could.

 

All she could hear was “It’s not a competition” and “I’ll always choose you” and “Whatever the outcome”.

 

This was probably the biggest trouble Chloe would ever get her into but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she closed the gap between them and crashed their lips together like she had been wanting to for a really long time.

 

She really couldn’t bring herself to care about anything but _that_ right now.

 

//

 

It was awesome. Kissing Chloe was amazing.

 

It made Beca feel like good music, Fizzing Whizzbees, sunny afternoons by the lake, flying and sips of firewhiskey all at once.

 

She didn't knew why it took her so long to do it.

 

//

 

Apparently the fact Chloe and Beca were now girlfriends was not brand new information.

 

Her dad was at the game so he obviously saw his daughter and best student making out in the middle of the stadium. He didn't seemed bothered by it and, you know, he liked Chloe.

 

It's not like Beca _cared_ but, whatever. It was nice to know.

 

Her mom kept sending boxes of All Flavored Beans along with the usual Fizzing Whizzbees ones.

 

Stacie faked swooning every time she spotted Beca kissing Chloe. Amy made gag noises. Aubrey’s frown just hardened.

 

“Guys, honestly. I'm trying to eat here,” she'd complain every time.

 

 _Whatever_. She was Chloe Beale’s freaking girlfriend!

 

//

 

Sixth year found Beca and Chloe settling into their schedules after a hectic year, emotionally and academically wise.

 

They had both passed their O.W.Ls easily — which, thank you Stacie. Fine, _thank you_ _Aubrey_ — and for the first time since she had come to Hogwarts, Beca found herself not hating any aspect of it.

 

That was, until she was casually enjoying a steamy hot shower in the prefect’s bathroom, humming to a song Chloe had stuck in her mind over summer and then, all of a sudden, her peaceful moment was broken.

 

“You _can_ sing!”

 

“ _Dude!_ ”

 

If Beca thought Chloe got her in a lot of trouble while they were just friends, she sure wasn't ready for the kind of troubles she'd get them into as girlfriends.

 

Rookie mistake. She should have known better.

 

“You were singing Titanium, right?” Chloe asked, not a bit bothered by both of their states of undress.

 

Also, when had the redhead come into the bathroom and how had Beca missed it? She was the one doing the singing, usually.

 

“You know David Guetta?” was Beca’s cheeky response, despite her recent scare.

 

“Shut up,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully at the brunette, making her proud. “Will you sing it for me?”

 

“ _What?!_ No, dude, get out,” Beca tried to push her girlfriend — her _naked_ girlfriend — out of her stall and that was probably her first mistake.

 

“Please, Becs?” Fuck, that fucking soft tone and blue eyes.

 

She also knew that look. It was the same one the redhead had on the first week of summer break, when they were both in Beca’s bedroom, goofing around with the piano, and somehow it ended with Beca pinned to her bed while Chloe did some _definitely_ magical things with her mouth.

 

It was that same look that, a week after that, almost had Chloe’s mom walking in on them in the Beale’s pantry.

 

It was definitely the same look that scarred Beca’s grandmother’s eldest house elf for life.

 

“Someone might walk in,” Beca hissed, but her traitor hands were already trailing down Chloe’s body, pulling her closer.

 

“I’m not leaving here until you sing, so…” Chloe smiled sweetly, knowing she had already convinced her girlfriend.

 

So she sang.

 

Beca had also learned long ago that singing and Chloe was a dangerous combination.

 

And now Aubrey had learned that lesson the hard way after walking in their naked duet.

 

//

 

“You scarred my girlfriend for life,” Stacie commented cheekily later at dinner.

 

“Shut up,” Beca grumbled around a mouthful of ham, flushing as scarlet as Gryffindor’s uniform.

 

//

 

The thing was though, that even when clothes _were_ involved, Beca and Chloe could always be found singing together somehow.

 

Chloe warming up for Frog Choir and Beca subconsciously harmonizing while working on her spells. Humming along while studying at the library or by the lake or the Ravenclaw common room.

 

At the Room of Requirement where Beca would test all the instruments she knew how to try and recreate the beats inside her mind while Chloe sang along with cheesy lines.

 

“You're the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I'm singing,” she'd serenade her girlfriend with that stupidly bright smile.

 

“Shut up,” Beca grumbled, but her smile and blush always gave her away.

 

So she recorded Chloe's singing and played it on a loop as she figured her way through a mixing board.

 

Sixth year was amazing.

 

//

 

They also won the Quidditch and House cups.

 

Did Beca mentioned how good of a year that was?

 

Yeah.

 

//

 

Beca was still riding on that high when, the summer before her last year at Hogwarts, she decided to submit an application to the Wizarding Academy of Performing Arts.

 

Nobody had anything to say about that because they didn't even knew about what she was doing.

 

As she watched Owlford carry her application away, she started to panic.

 

What had she done?

 

//

 

Aside from that brief moment during their second year where Beca had confessed her well thought out plan of leaving after third year, she and Chloe had never discussed about the future.

 

 _Their_ future.

 

It'd be ridiculous to do so, right? I mean, it's a school romance! Those never lasted. Right?

 

_Right?_

 

“You're being ridiculous,” Amy said as they waited for Stacie and Chloe at the Leaky Cauldron for their final year of school shopping.

 

“No, I'm not,” Beca frowned. “School romances _don't_ ever last!”

 

“You really see your relationship with ginger sunshine as a school romance?”

 

Beca was saved from giving an answer by said ginger sunshine’s arrival.

 

//

 

Every time Beca thought about _not_ being with Chloe, she felt sick to her stomach.

 

“I want you to come with me,” she practiced saying in front of the mirror most nights. “I love you.”

 

“Fix your posture!” the mirror shouted back.

 

She was helpless.

 

She couldn’t say what she wanted out loud so she ended up doing the next best thing.

 

She wrote a song.

 

//

 

After years of slowly going over everything the Room of Requirement had to offer, Beca felt confident enough she had what it took to make a song.

 

The perfect song that would make Chloe understand everything she was wanting to say. The epitome of wandless magic.

 

She kept tap-tapping the rhythm alongside every surface within reach until she finally got it though.

 

Amy complained loudly every time. Stacie kept trying to hum along to the rhythm, saying it was catchy. Aubrey would scowl at her, annoyed, until she stopped.

 

Chloe didn’t said anything, but she smiled every time she felt her girlfriend beating away against her thighs, knees or forehead; and Beca really loved her girlfriend for that.

 

Because she knew Chloe was waiting for her to be ready and tell her about it.

 

She _fucking loved_ Chloe Beale.

 

//

 

“I wanna show you something.”

 

Beca was biting her lips nervously, sitting by the desktop set in the Room of Requirement, hooked up to all the electronic mixing material she had learned to use.

 

“Yeah?” Chloe smiled sweetly at her girlfriend, approaching slowly as if not to scare her. “Then show me.”

 

The brunette took a deep breath before pressing play and letting her own voice sing to the room, sing to _Chloe_ about tickets for the long way round, bottles of whiskey for the way and how she could really use some sweet company.

 

 _Chloe’s_ sweet company.

 

She kept tapping the beat nervously against her own thigh, watching every inch of her girlfriend’s face for a sign, a reaction, something.

 

The anticipation was killing her.

 

Chloe kept a sweet, serene smile on her face throughout the whole song, reaching out for Beca’s hand and intertwining their fingers in what the Ravenclaw knew was an attempt to calm her down.

 

It worked, even if just for a tiny bit.

 

“I love this, Becs,” Chloe turned to Beca as soon as the song ended, those shiny blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I love you.”

 

The brunette felt as if she could breath properly once again.

 

“I love you too,” they both leaned in for a quick, but sweet kiss before Chloe pulled away and got up, never letting go of her girlfriend’s hand.

 

“I have something to show you too.”

 

//

 

After a quick stop by the kitchens for some chicken sandwiches and pumpkin juice, Chloe dragged Beca to their usual spot by the lake, refusing to tell her anything until they got there.

 

They sat like they usually did, side by side and not facing each other, and that made it easier — for Beca, that is — to talk about serious stuff.

 

“This came in through my owl post yesterday,” the redhead said once they were settled, handing her girlfriend a heavy, purple envelope.

 

It looked oddly familiar, where had Beca seen it before…?

 

 _Oh_.

 

“Wizarding Academy of Performing Arts?” the brunette asked, opening it and seeing it was an acceptance letter.

 

“Mmhmm,” Chloe nodded, swallowing her bite of sandwich. “Professor Flitwick asked if anyone from the Frog Choir was interested in applying last year, said he would help. I had honestly forgotten all about it until this came through.”

 

“You’re… you’re going?” Beca swallowed heavily, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

 

“I want to,” Chloe smiled, turning to look at her girlfriend with an expectant expression. “But I want it even more for you to come, too.”

 

Beca felt as if she had just eaten an entire box of Fizzing Whizzbees in one sitting.

 

“Maybe,” she shrugged, trying for nonchalance, but the huge smile that threatened to split her face in two gave her away.

 

She just laughed when her girlfriend shoved her and called her an asshole.

 

 _Whatever_. She just really loved Chloe and her life in general.

 

//

 

Her acceptance letter from the Academy came two days later.

 

She just hoped NYC could handle all the troubles she _knew_ Chloe would get them into there.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this, let me know!! :)


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